


Twelve Days of Christmas

by brodeurbunny30



Category: Deadpool (2016) RPF
Genre: Blake tolerates a LOT of shenanigans, Bromance, Christmas Themed, F/M, Gen, It's almost a Christmas Movie, Josh Brolin is a Hallmark Addict, Josh Brolin is a stud, M/M, Make the Yuletide Gay, Rom Com Ryan is the best Ryan, Ryan is a princess, Ryan just being Deadpool for funsies, So is Ryan, Spirit of Christmas - Freeform, Swearing, canadian jokes, so many dick jokes, so much swearing, tongue in cheek insults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 02:37:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17051468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodeurbunny30/pseuds/brodeurbunny30
Summary: Josh spends the Twelve Days of Christmas wooing his bromantic interest Ryan Reynolds. Blake takes invested interest in the shenanigans. There is much judging and swearing. All insults are tongue in cheek and made with love.





	Twelve Days of Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mlraven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlraven/gifts).



> Dear mlraven,
> 
> I hope you have a WONDERFUL Yuletide. It was an immense pleasure to write for you. I loved all your YT letter SO much. I watched all the videos you posted links to and ultimately it inspired me to write something a little ridiculous and very bromantic that we can all enjoy. I love these men SO much and their personalities on the promotional tour were WAY too much fun to work with. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it for you. Best wishes for the holiday and a Happy New Year!

**The First Day**

A loud and right fucking annoying ringing woke Ryan from a wonderful dream where he was floating on one of those giant inflatable unicorns poolside in Mexico with a chimichanga in one hand and a beer in the other. There’s no point in being Deadpool if you can’t live and breathe and dream the world of Deadpool. He’s always felt that way, much to his close family and friends’ dismay.

The egregious disruption made him question why he wasn’t in Mexico right now, and why he was instead in his bed with his phone ringing and vibrating its way across the sheets. It was the Smart doorbell app… someone was at his front door...right here, right now.

He contemplated ignoring it like he’s done in the past but it wasn’t any of his regular drivers. Damned if he could trust anything left on his doorstep in December, fucking thieves. He clicked on the phone screen and spoke into the app knowing it played through his front door speaker. The courier’s voice quivered “I have a package for Mr. Ryan Reynolds, it needs a signature sir.” 

Ryan rolled his eyes and mumbled to himself as he threw on a pair of shorts. “Lame, it’s important.”

He got to the door and let the courier step into the entrance way. “If this is jury duty, I’m going to dismember you.”

The courier’s eyes widened and he coughed on a sharp intake of breath.

Ryan’s glare turned to mischievous smile. “Nah, I'm just fucking with you. I’m Canadian, we’re too passive aggressive for dismembering, but I *will* vague tweet about you on Twitter, so watch out.”

He grabbed the non-de script brown box from the courier’s hands and ushered him out.

“What even the fuck is this? Blake? Honey? Did you order more strap-ons without consulting me? I have specific needs! You know this already and I shouldn’t have to remind you.”

He had shouted loud enough for her to hear from the adjacent room where he was certain she was working at her computer since it was an office day for her.

After a minute of silence he shook his head and made his way to the kitchen to open the package on the large table. Blake swept in looking lovely as ever, and ridiculously nonplussed.

She poked at the box like a curious child. “What’s this? Penis enlargement kit?” 

“Um, excuse you, I already made a self-deprecating penis joke but you weren’t around to hear it. Gosh, Blake, get it together.”

She laughed. “No seriously, what is it?”

“Um, do I have x-ray vision? No, I don’t! Maybe it’s a bunch of penny CDs from Columbia House or maybe it’s Anthrax! 

Wait, are you even old enough to understand that reference? I lose track.” He shrugged and Blake burst into a fit of giggles.

He tore it open and looked upon a fancy looking envelope with his name in loopy hand written letters, and a wrapped mini package.

“OOOOH maybe it’s a threatening letter of intent. I LOVE those.” He tore it open as Blake raised an eyebrow questioningly. 

“Read it out loud so I can laugh at you appropriately.” She dug her phone out of her pocket and cued up to record it.

“Please don’t send this to TMZ. I’m not wearing any makeup.”

“I can’t promise anything.”

“You tell me now in our sixth year of marriage, you jerk. ANYWAY. Ahem.”

“ _Dear Ryan, I hope you are well, and just as fit as I remember._ ” He looked up at her phone. “Stalkers are so polite nowadays.”

He continued in his Deadpool voice for dramatic effect (which was just his regular voice but with a cool edge, not unlike New Coke)

_It’s not really news to anyone that I have a healthy non-toxic man-crush on you and a laser focused appreciation of your film, The Proposal._

_I’ve thought long and hard about what could have been had I ever had the chance to court your tall, beautiful, handsome and charming six-foot-two Canadian self._

_So buckle up, son, as I shower you in totally platonic love and affection for the next twelve days in the spirit of Christmas, and to possibly convince you to finally sign my copy of the Proposal so I can properly frame it._

_Yours genuinely,  
Josh_

_PS Please read this in Cable’s voice, and not Thanos’...we do not own the rights._ ”

“What the fuck. He never called me talented… not once. Am I just a sexy body to him? Geeze, and he underlined ‘totally platonic’ like three times, that’s not convincing anyone.”

He reached into the box and pulled out the wrapped package, glaring at Blake who was still filming. “Were you in on this? Because you really shouldn’t encourage him. I mean, depending on the outcome, I might just go full desperate housewife and run away with my dreamy Prince Cable.”

“I’ll pack your go-bag.” 

Ryan shook his head, “You are so full of hate and kale.” 

Blake was cackling as he unwrapped a white printed t-shirt with a badly photo shopped Seventies teenager with feathered hair and a microphone standing in a scraggly branched tree with a badly hand written note ‘The First day of Christmas’”

She gasped as he held it up for the phone camera. “Is that what I think it is?”

“You mean a Keith Partridge in a Pear tree? Yes, yes it is. Bold of him to assume I knew what a Pear tree looked like though.”

They both burst out laughing.

***

**The next day**

Ringing woke Ryan that morning. AWFUL FUCKING RINGING! Again! If he wasn’t so frugal and progressive he’d have an old-timey maid to answer the door and to sign for stuff, and then he could GET SOME FUCKING SLEEP. But no, Blake says nobody does that anymore, and that it’d be “wasteful” like only getting Botox a week before the Oscars… gosh, get your money’s worth Ryan!

Anyway, it occurred to Ryan as he trudged his way to the door to let the courier in that maybe the previous day’s adventure wasn’t just a LSD fueled fever dream and that Josh *was* actually playing the part of Romcom hero and wooing him with tacky Christmas themed gifts as if Hallmark was paying for the airtime. He’d have called him up to cut it out except that being mostly platonically wooed like an Hallmark protag was really kinda fucking fun? So why question it. 

The courier was less shaky today as he handed him the package. He coughed and pointed at the sleep rumpled tee that Ryan was wearing. “Is that Danny Partridge?”

Ryan quirked an eyebrow and scoffed. “Um, no? This is Keith. Does this even look REMOTELY like Danny Bonaduce? Gosh, know your 1970s teen heartthrobs.” The courier wilted apologetically and dashed from the door.

 

“Blaaaaaaake, your hair extensions arrived!” he shouted into the house as he made his way to the kitchen to open today’s package. Blake enthusiastically fake ran into the room. “Where are my babies?”

“You are so weak.”

“And you’re ugly.” Blake laughed as she dug out her phone.

“We BOTH know that’s a lie.” He admonished as he tore into the package. Another handwritten note. “Second day of Christmas.”

Blake was giddy “What’s in it?”

Ryan tore open the wrapping and dug out two badly painted ceramic doves. The colour was off and the glaze looked like it was melting in a permanent fire. 

“Are those….”

He examined them closer. “Turtle doves? I think? I hope he painted them himself. Actually he probably did. He doesn’t really strike me as an Arts and Crafts kinda dude...but how else do you find out what you’re shitty at unless you try?”

“What are you going to do with them?”

“Oh I’m posting these on the Weird Thrift Store finds page on Facebook.”

“You’re banned from that group.”

“Oh Ryan is…but not Wade.” 

***

**Third day of Christmas**

This time it was Celine Dion’s ‘My Heart Will go on' that woke Ryan from his slumber. There was no way he was waking up to that godawful ringing of the doorbell program when he knew fucking well that Josh was determined to see this through right to end of the damned Christmas Carol… like nine days from now? Jesus.

He might as well wake to the soothing french-Canadian warbling on what he would assume was “Three French Hen” day.

It was only proper.

It was another day, another box, another weird exchange with a courier who was clearly uncomfortable with his daily vaguely threatening chitchat.

This time Blake was waiting in the kitchen. She had become just as invested in Josh’s shenanigans.

It was another note.

He tore open the package and it was three imported French chickens packed in ice packs.

Ryan wiped at the fake tears in his eyes, clearly very touched. 

“He’s just so adamant.” His voice wavered dramatically. “ I mean, I hate to be stereotypical but like... the way to a man’s heart *IS* through his stomach.” He clutched the note to his chest. 

“Blake, darling, fire up the barbecue. I need to eat my feelings.”

 

***

**The day after that (aka the Fourth Day of Christmas)**

Ryan slept thoughtfully well into the late morning, having set his doorbell app to silent notifications the night before because he had looked up the song and the Fourth Day of Christmas was a confusing set of four Calling Birds. 

What were they even? He figured unless Josh wanted to commit to filling out ridiculous amounts of paperwork that was part and parcel to sending live animals, there was no real reason to bother with that package. So Blake could sign for that tire fire.

***

**The Fifth Day of Christmas**

Ryan woke that morning bright eyed and bushy tailed. He was dressed, pressed and glowing as he waited for the ringing notification that Josh’s package was being delivered.

The moment it rang he dashed to the door like a man possessed. He’d done the research and today was supposed to be rings. Oh yes, five fucking golden rings to be exact and he was curious as fuck what Josh had sent.

He barely made it to the kitchen where Blake was filming with her phone for posterity.

Ryan destroyed the packaging, tearing the box open like a child on Christmas morning. He dove for the wrapped package inside. “What was your guess again?”

“Nipple rings”

He made waste of the wrapping paper and peaked inside. 

“Well you’re WRONG. It’s five cock rings. Golden ones. Good gravy, Josh, you’ve outdone yourself.”

Blake gasped. “HOW SCANDALOUS.”

Ryan smiled wistfully. “I think he might love me more than you do.”

***

**Fast forward to the Twelfth Day of Christmas cause the rest of the Carol’s days were honestly and in Ryan’s own words “super repetitive, outlandish and borderline excessive.”**

 

It was a bright shiny Californian Christmas morning full of promise and irritating Christmas songs on repeat (Thanks Mariah) and Ryan and Blake were having a grand ol’ time bonding with their children while they opened stockings and presents.

Thank fuck there was no courier today, Ryan pondered. He knew because Josh had included a note to instead watch for his email on the Twelfth Day, which was very presumptuous. No way in hell was he planning to interrupt his solid four hours of Candy Crush to check his email like a little bitch but Blake had convinced him to, though.

So there was that.

Twelve Drummers Drumming, that was the title of the email and the attached video file that was admittedly a very cool composite of twelve of the best rock and metal drummers alive and willing to take a bribe or two from Josh Brolin.

Upon viewing it with his family, he looked at Blake. “Frankly, I think he’s being paid too much if he can get that many talented artists to do his bidding. Gosh, you get one fudging Infinity Gauntlet and the world is suddenly your oyster. Geeze, power trip much?”

Blake just laughed and just stopped the video recording on her phone. “You’re really a piece of work. I’m not sure I get what Josh even sees in you.”

“I’m going to ignore that comment in the spirit of Christmas and I *REALLY* hope you’re working on a cool montage video with all those reactions clips. Please cut it with a cool track like the Rocky Theme or like Dolly’s 9-to-5…you just can’t go wrong.”

“I don’t know, it’s not really up to me. Josh has a master plan.”

Ryan gasped. “YOU DON’T SAY.”

Blake laughed. “Man, you’re dramatic...but yes you can ask him yourself. Him and Kathryn and the baby are coming over for dinner.”

Ryan squinted. “This...this is *truly* the strangest Rom com I’ve ever been part of yet.”

 

***

**Later that afternoon.**

The doorbell rang and Ryan scampered to the door nervously. He had changed into one of his best suits and he was wringing his hands. “Oh my god oh my god, it’s him. He’s here. Oh my god, what do I say? How do I smell? Do I look okay?”

Blake smiled warmly as she fiddled with his tie. “You got this, just follow your heart.”

He smiled. “You’re the best, thank you. I’m just so gosh darned excited. Princesses always get a happy ever after. Is it the same for Princes?.”

She chucked him on the shoulder. “Don’t even worry, you’re the biggest princess I know. Deep breath, and go get’em tiger!”

 

He opened the door and Josh was standing there looking radiant in a well fitted suit that made Ryan forget that he usually looked like a melted candle with abs. He was holding a single red rose.

“Is that for me?” He blushed daintily.

Josh handed over the rose and Ryan took it and sniffed it dramatically.

“Merry Christmas Ryan.” The silly dope was blushing. Ryan grinned moronically as Josh spoke nervously.. “Um, did you like the presents?”

“Did I? Of course I did, you big lug. Although days Six through Eleven were utterly unnecessary. Eight maids a milking? And the Geese? You can’t send geese, plush or otherwise, to a Canadian’s home without setting off some *serious* PTSD.” He shuddered. “But yes, I loved it all. It was very thoughtful if not a tad strange.”

“I’m all about the details.”

 

“I appreciate that.”

They stared lovingly at each other for a solid minute before Blake crept from the house and produced a bough of mistletoe and dangled it above their heads and in a weird voice she spoke like she was shouting scene directions at a couple in a high school play.

“OH MY, IS THAT MISTLETOE YOU ARE STANDING UNDER? YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS.” She made cartoony kissy sounds and Ryan laughed. “I don’t know her.”

Josh had the good nature to blush and grin like the handsome leading man he wished he was.

Ryan gave in to the moment and brought his hand to Josh’s chest. “This is it. This is your one, my handsome Hallmark Christmas Rom Com Prince.”

Josh took a deep breath and stood on tippy toes and pressed a romantic but not without the appropriate amount of tongue kiss to Ryan’s lips.

After only a slightly too long of a moment did they break for air. Blake was cheering and whooping enthusiastically at the display.

Ryan looked into Josh’s eyes. “Well, did it live up to the hype?”

Josh sighed dreamily. “Transcendent.”

Ryan cringed. “Weird. Weird choice of word, Josh. Waaaaay to make it weird.”

Josh winked. “I have zero regrets.”

Ryan shook his head. “Of course you don’t. Gosh, get in here you sexy beast, and get your peeping tom of a wife in here, I can’t wait to see the new baby! Merry Christmas!”

All four laughed and made their way inside where they spent the rest of the day and evening making the Yuletide gay as fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> It goes without saying that Ryan signed the fuck out of Josh's copy of the Proposal...as well as a few extra back up copies so that he never gets fucking asked for one ever again. hahaha.


End file.
